


Perchance to Dream

by minervamoon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Frottage, In the Beginning, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Naga Crowley, snondage, with snake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23184274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minervamoon/pseuds/minervamoon
Summary: Crowley liked to sleep because in sleep he could dream, and dreaming meant he could do things that he couldn’t do, wasn’t allowed to do, when awake.Written for the Great Good Omens Snake-Off
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 194
Collections: The Snake Pit





	Perchance to Dream

Crowley liked to sleep because in sleep he could dream, and dreaming meant he could do things that he couldn’t do, wasn’t allowed to do, when awake. Dreams also gave him deniability about what he did in them. It wasn’t a fantasy, he had no control while dreaming. They just swept over him. 

He had several recurring dreams. Some of them were just memories, good days that he wanted to revisit. Others were how he wished things had gone. And, of course, he had nightmares too. You didn’t work for Hell and not have nightmares. They were few and fleeting, thankfully.

The dream Crowley was having this time wasn’t exactly a pleasant dream, but Crowley didn’t fight it when it solidified in his mind. 

The sun was warm on his scales, the grass grazing along his body as he slithered his way through the Garden. He was near the tree, _that_ tree. It was always that tree in the dream. Made sense. It was the first place he’d ever seen Aziraphale, there under the boughs of branches, the sunlight dappled through the leaves and falling on that white gold hair, soft face, the wings that almost shone in that light. Or was it Aziraphale’s own holy light? Crowley didn’t know, didn’t care. Not here, not now. He slithered closer, the rustling of the grass hidden in the wind in the leaves. Aziraphale had no idea he was there until he was upon him. 

Crowley struck, not to bite, but to coil. He wrapped his body around Aziraphale, trapping his arms against his body. Aziraphale struggled, his wings beating frantically, buffing against Crowley but not doing much to deter him. Crowley kept wrapping him up until Aziraphale was completely captured, laying on that soft grass under that tree, the sun flickering down on both of them. Crowley flicked his tongue out, tasting the air. Fear, but also something else. Something he has to pretend he doesn’t smell when he’s awake. But here, here he can smell it growing all around them, and he can act on it.

“What are you going to do to me, serpent?” husked Aziraphale, blue eyes wide, heart hammering in his chest under Crowley’s coils.

“Thisssss,” hissed Crowley as he maneuvered his thick body between Aziraphale’s legs. Aziraphale gasped out, wings trembling; his cock growing hard as Crowley flexed against it. Aziraphale wasn’t fighting him now. His thighs parted on their own, his eyes closed and he panted hotly. Crowley undulated between them and Aziraphale groaned, his head thrown back. Crowley’s heart beat faster at the surrender. He loosened his hold on the angel, he wasn’t going to try and escape now. “Pull your robessss up.”

Aziraphale opened glazed eyes and his hands moved to oblige, gathering handfuls of the white material and pulling it up. Baring equally pale, soft flesh. Crowley shuddered as the heat of Aziraphale’s thighs pressed against his body unobstructed. Crowley’s tongue flicked out again, grazing the soft roll under Aziraphale’s chin. The fear was gone, overridden by lust. It sat heady on Crowley’s tongue. Then Aziraphale’s cock was underneath him, already leaking against his scales. Crowley hissed out a groan as his hemipenis unsheathed. It didn’t take much maneuvering to align their parts together. Aziraphale’s hands were on him now, running up and down him, grasping and pressing him closer as his own body started to move. His wings came up around them, wrapping them in a cocoon of white feathers. They were alone together in this, wrapped around each other. The thought made Crowley move faster, harder, dragging moans from Aziraphale’s throat. Crowley’s own member was dripping fluids all over them, slicking and creating a delicious slide between them.

“Like thisss, angel?” teased Crowley. 

“Oh, yes. Yes!” gasped out Aziraphale, hips bucking for more contact.

This was the part of the dream where Crowley would finally start to shift. Awake he couldn’t do anything as dramatic as this, but in the dream, his top half formed, chest, arms, red hair that fell around Aziraphale’s head like a curtain as he propped himself up over the angel, but his bottom half remained a snake, even thicker than before, but still completely serpent. 

Aziraphale looked into his eyes, his own blown wide with pleasure. He smiled at him. 

“There you are,” he said so sweetly, cupping Crowley’s face with one hand, the other trailing down his back until skin became scale again. 

Crowley couldn’t form words, so he turned his head, pressing a kiss into Aziraphale’s palm and flicking his forked tongue over a finger before taking it into his mouth. Aziraphale’s lips made a small ‘o’ as Crowley promised to his finger what he wanted to do to his cock. 

Aziraphale’s legs wrapped around him, drawing him even closer. Crowley was completely caught up in the angel, unable to get away, not that he wanted to. When had Aziraphale trapped him? Oh, right, that day on the wall. He had captured a heart Crowley hadn’t known he still possessed and had kept it all this time. Crowley didn’t want it back, it belonged to his angel.

Crowley pulled away from Aziraphale’s finger and leaned in to mouth kisses to his neck, tasted salt and lust on his tongue as he laved it over the soft roll of flesh there. 

“I’d worship you if you’d let me,” he whispered against that skin, just under Aziraphale’s ear.

Aziraphale’s fingers tangled in Crowley’s hair, cradling the back of his head, then tugging just enough to make him raise his head. 

“I’m not stopping you, my love,” said Aziraphale. Then his lips met Crowley’s, soft and sweet and Crowley’s undoing. All his composure was lost at the kiss, at being called Aziraphale’s love. He took Aziraphale in his arms and clung to him. Words of love fell from his mouth and he pressed each one into Aziraphale’s skin with his lips, all the while rocking his body against Aziraphale’s weeping cock. 

“Oh, oh yes, my love,” panted Aziraphale, thrusting against him, his head rolled back in ecstasy. “My love, my love, my love.”

It was a litany in Crowley’s ears. “Yes, I’m yours. Always. Have me. Keep me. I love you.”

Aziraphale came then, hot seed splashing on Crowley’s scales as the sky darkened above them. 

_Let Her get angry,_ thought Crowley as he pressed his face into the juncture of Aziraphale’s throat and shoulder. They were going to leave the Garden anyway soon.

“No,” choked out Aziraphale, his voice sounding heartbroken. 

Crowley was suddenly standing, completely in human form, several feet away. The sun was still shining above them. Aziraphale still laid under the tree, his robes hitched up, their mingled spend coating his stomach and thighs, and his wings…

“No!” wailed Crowley, falling to his knees. Aziraphale’s wings were black. “No. Nonononono!”

Aziraphale was before him now, black wings and black robes. He tilted Crowley’s chin up with a finger. His eyes, still blue, but with rectangular pupils bore down on him. “Isn’t this what you wanted, my _love_?”

****

Crowley opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. His eyes were wet, so was his stomach. Wet and sticky and shameful. Crowley took a deep breath that caught in his throat before snapping the mess away and curling onto his side. A flat box done up in cheery ribbons met his gaze as he did. He’d planned to surprise Aziraphale with chocolates, celebrate his bookshop. Maybe he shouldn’t? Maybe it would be safer for Aziraphale if he-

Crowley got out of bed and snapped up his best outfit. He’d just check and make sure Aziraphale was all right. No harm in that.


End file.
